


Mirror Effect

by MarvelsMenace



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 01:53:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17132819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelsMenace/pseuds/MarvelsMenace
Summary: Foggy had thought that all of Matt's nonsense of bringing up Mike was a ruse long gone in the years of their friendship.  That is until a flesh and blood Mike is sitting in his office.  Foggy's always been weak for Matt's looks, the Murdock boys are either something of a  wish come true, or a total nightmare.  He'll have to decide later.





	Mirror Effect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [returnsandreturns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/gifts).



> Daredevil bingo fill for "doppelganger"  
> Also took a few liberties and mashed comics and Netflix together...

It had started like any other day.  Foggy was up and out the door with the sun in the early morning, a busy Friday with urgent documents to pick up and others to drop off before he could actually start on real work at the office.  Matt had been out later than normal the night before, coming back well after Foggy had regretfully fallen asleep, dirty and a little bruised but blood free for once.  He had been able to pacify him with a sleepy kiss when he extracted himself from Matt’s usual sloth routine of attempting to mold himself to Foggy’s spine, telling him as he got dressed that he’d meet him at the office.

So, when Foggy walks in through the door and there’s a familiar mop of red hair topping the person in the client chair across from his desk, he’s a bit surprised but not unsettled that Matt was waiting for him.  He bends over enough to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before settling the various files he had into order on his desk as he speaks.

“Hey babe, I picked up the files and left a note to try to get an appointment with the team at the firm a few blocks into Midtown...”

He trails off as he settles into his chair, actually taking in the man sitting across from him.

“You’re not Matt.”

Whoever he is, he’s got Matt face, but his face from some alternate life before college, unmarred from the stress of late night vigilante work and free from the constellation of scars left behind from the accident in his childhood.

The guy flips down a ridiculous pair of glasses from the top of head, and Foggy is yanked back to years gone by with Matt’s ridiculous stunt about Mike.  He oozes arrogance as he leans into the back of the chair, lifting one foot to rest on his knee.  Foggy can feel a muscle twitching in his face from impending stress.

“So, what?  You’re bringing “Mike” back now?  What kind of trouble have you gotten us into this time?”

Fuck, he can feel the ulcer already finding a suitable spot in his stomach.  He looks closer, thinking maybe it is Matt, possibly under a layer of heavy cosmetics to hide the distinguishing imperfections that Foggy loves to trace.  The guy barks out a laugh, genuine but with a bite that unsettles him.  His voice has a drawl to it, different from the crisp bite that Matt uses when he speaks.

“Cute Foggy, but we both know I’m the better-looking twin.  Though now that I know I’m missing out on your kisses, I’m thinking I might not be the luckiest.  Always figured you two were bound to start fooling around at some point.  I should have been quicker.”

Foggy glances at the clock, knowing Matt should be there soon if he’s lucky, he’ll be anticipating a fight the way Foggy’s heart is beating in his chest.  He just has to keep whoever is sitting in front of him busy until Matt can backflip his way into work.

His forced small talk is shit in stressful situations, and he has no desire to try and draw this out.  The minutes tick by agonizingly quiet, sweat beading at the nape of his neck as he keeps one eye on “Mike” while he moves through paperwork. 

 _Finally_ , there’s a slam of the building’s door, he can play it up to the wind if he needs too, but Mike looks curiously over his shoulder before shrugging and giving Foggy a smile that is all teeth.  There are no foot falls in the hall, and it doesn’t surprise him, Matt wanting to keep an edge on things, if it even was him.  No doubt he could hear the jackhammer of his heart if it was.  The business door opens with the usual squeak of complaining hinges though, and Matt taps his way through the office until he reaches Foggy’s door.

Foggy gives Mike a look that will hopefully keep him in place as he drags Matt into the other’s office before he can get a word in, hoping to choke him with his tie if he can get away with it as punishment for dragging his feet. 

The door all but slams behind them and he rounds on Matt hoping that Mike is less enhanced in the hearing department.  At least answers are easy from Matt, if not with his shit ability to lie, then the fact that a few well places kisses are easy encouragement.  He all but hisses at him anyways, throwing his hands up.

“What the hell is going on Matthew?”

A flush that screams _oh no ive been caught_ is dusting Matt’s cheeks, and he has the grace to look at least a bit apologetic about whatever he’s missed in his blanket filled absence.  This clearly says that he had already known about a least a portion of this, and that he was still debating telling Foggy.  Probably planned to leave it alone, until he walked up on the problem declaring itself in their office. 

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face like he’s still waking up, and Foggy wouldn’t be surprised if he was, he had woken up a few times through the night, and as it grew closer and closer to morning, it had been later than usual when he finally heard the roof access door and the footfall of heavy boots.

“We were working on taking down Fisk with a fresh team, a few parties being enhanced.  Long story short, they were going over my notes on the Mike cover I used for Daredevil, and thanks to some questionable superhuman abilities, we now have a very real Mike on our hands who has a fair amount of memories, but quite a few blind spots as well.”

It’s not clear if the pun is intentional or not.  They’ll debate it later.  Matt sighs, and Foggy thinks he might need another coffee on top of the one he had tossed back before he left this morning.  His eyes are a little wide behind his glasses, and Foggy thinks he might have just had some sort of horrifying revelation inside his skull.

“Who I don’t know how to predict and or control.”

He goes silent quite abruptly and steps closer, Foggy can see him squinting behind scarlet lenses as he bends his head and all but rubs his nose along his jaw.  They refrain from PDA in front of clients, avoiding anything but a chaste kiss when anyone else is in the office helping with a case, but they _are_ alone, and just as Foggy considers his interest, he’s welcomed to the small noise and the realization that Matt is sniffing him.  Small puffs of air raise goosebumps on his jaw as Matt finally turns his attention to his mouth, turning his head with speculation. 

“You kissed him.”

Foggy throws his hands up, a motion that is becoming repetitive at this point, already done with this situation before he was pushed into it.

“Because I thought it was you! The only other red head I know who wears grumpy body language like a suit.”

The words are less than quiet in the small space, and Matt returns to his own personal space as Foggy prods him in the chest with a finger.

“I’ll have you know it was barely on the lips anyways, not that I should have to defend myself to you.”

There’s something stirring in him, the idea that he has one flesh and blood Matt right in front of him, and there was another one (more or less) waiting by his desk in the other room for his return.  Foggy had a feeling this was going to be one of those moments where a kink just knocks you on your ass with the way it materializes.  He swallows thickly, and Matt raises a hand between them, tracing the bob of his throat with the rough pad of his thumb.

“You okay Fogs?”

The question is all appearances, and he can see the curious expression slide over Matt’s features.  Might as well go big or go home, because if he was honest, he was more than a little easy for Matt Murdock and apparently his brother. 

“Mhmm, fine.  Just realizing that there’s now the possibility of getting fucked by two of you now.”

Whatever Matt had been expecting, it _had not_ been that response.  He pulls back abruptly, eyebrows creeping up towards his hairline while tilting his head as he takes in Foggy to the best of his ability, the racing of his heart, the interest stirring in his pants thanks to a wonderful mental image that hadn’t been intention but was welcome now that he had it.  Foggy needs control of this as of an hour though and tries to back pedal.

“That came out a bit more blunt than I meant for it to.  I just, you see those news reports of clones and that sort of thing, and my mind is apparently worse than a lizard man’s gutter because I may or may not have seen porn with twins in my early college years and it is right up and center in my mind right now.”

He’s talking himself into a hole, and he shakes his head, brown hair flopping as he tries to force some sense into himself. 

“Now I realize what that probably sounds like to you, and fucking another person is kind of on a different level from the time we tried the wax and everything with the riding crop.  I don’t want you to think I’m not happy, because I don’t think I’ve ever been happier Matty.  But now, I’ve probably fucked this up and set it on fire because mmph-“

Matt has taken the initiative to shut him up, a wise decision before he spins himself into more of an anxious fit.  His lips are lightly chapped, because the dumbass has opinions on _Chapstick_ but not cracked lips, but it’s a kiss full of warm reassurance until he pulls back just enough, the hand cupping his cheek softly stroking his stubble free skin.

“Are you attracted to him?”

Foggy gapes at him.  Of all the things he had expected Matt to say, that was not one of them.  Matt was very much the jealous type, and Foggy sometimes hated how mot it got him, what with Matt’s habit of obscene kisses in public if someone so much as looked at Foggy for too long.  Matthew Murdock was not one to share.  Foggy’s answer was fairly easy though when he thought of the physical aspect of it, he didn’t know Mike well enough to make any other decision yet. 

“Well I mean, he has your face and we both know how I feel about that.”

Matt, to his credit, only smirks with a quirk of his lips, kissing him once on the cheek before he slips around him to leave the office as if that settled things.  Foggy snags him with a hand on his elbow, just barely keeping him from crossing the threshold.

“Where are you going?  This conversation has had zero help come from it.”

“True, but I’m fairly certain our first client will be arriving soon, and we are a business Mr. Nelson.”

Foggy grits his teeth as he watches Matt go to unlock the front door, a silhouette already waiting on the other side of the frosted glass.  He crosses back to his own office and takes a quick step in front of Mike when he stands, sunglasses nestled in his hair while his intense blue gaze on Foggy instantly.  Focused eyes with that face are going to take some getting used to. 

“We have a few clients to meet with this morning.  But I think the three of us need to talk sooner rather than later.  If you aren’t busy, we can work through lunch.”

Mike gives him a thousand-watt smile that makes Foggy’s knees feel a little weak.  He had only seen that same smile on Matt a few times, and God it made his heart hurt. 

“That’s great Franklin.  See ya then.”

He smacks a kiss to Foggy’s cheek and whisks himself out the door before he knows what’s happening, large sunglasses sliding back down into place as he heads through the small waiting area.  He can see a few people make a double take and the following puzzlement as they try to make sense of what they’ve just witnessed. 

Everybody knew Matt in the kitchen by this point, if not him, then of his childhood and the accident that took it, everyone certainly his father.  They would have known if there was another Murdock boy, certainly would have heard about it from Battlin’ Jack himself.  Every soul in the Kitchen had known when Matthew was born, how he had fit in Jack’s two hands.  His parents had told Matt stories like that the first time he had brought him home, nearly overwhelming him, but when he was composed he could have been vibrating with how excited he had been to learn more about who his father had been 

Foggy shakes himself and tries to get his head into lawyer mode as he grabs his things and heads for the conference room, wondering how much work he can actually accomplish with Matt at his side and knowing Mike is doing who knows what out in the city.

 

OoOoO

 

His mind wanders as Matt finishes up with a client in his own office, killing the last few minutes before Mike is supposed to show up to discuss whatever this was, whatever it could turn into.  Christ, that’s a thought.

Back in his junior year of undergrad Foggy had met a cute poly couple at a party, had gone home with them even, and had a great time.  They had meshed well together, clicking almost instantly and becoming an item only a few weeks after they had started testing the waters.  They had taken his newly outed bisexual ass and tucked him under their pride flag waving wings, he had been in heaven.

With a trio you had a larger net of support within the relationship, as long as communication was good that is.  He had learned a lot about what he wanted in a relationship and what was expected in return, this isn’t even taking in the sexual lessons he had learned.  Though it was how Foggy learned to deep throat worthy of the reviews he had received. 

It had been one of the greatest relationships he had been in until they were graduating, and then moving to another state for work half way through his senior year.  Foggy had been welcomed and very much wanted, but his dream was law school and he couldn’t make himself give that up.  He still speaks to them on occasion, texts every few weeks or when he sees something that makes him think of the couple.

Foggy makes a mental note to see if they knew anyone who had done something like what he was getting into.  Though Mike’s sudden existence and the materials he came from made him essentially a twin, there were mixed feelings on how tight that relationship was, especially from Matt’s side.  He had personal memories of growing up that Matt didn’t, thoughts and opinions that Matt didn’t share from what little Matt had told him between appointments. 

He took a scratch piece of paper and drew a line down in, labeling “pros” at the top of one side and “cons” on the other side of the divide.  The pros were fairly easy, though mostly superficial.  Attractive, physical chemistry, mutual interest.  If he even thought about it, there was the fact that he could pass for Matt without trying too hard, if he could reign it in a bit.  Did Mike know about Daredevil, could he fight crime?  Would it just be another body into the mix, or someone Foggy could count on to keep Matt down when he was too injured, but also too stubborn.  He was getting off track.

The first item under cons was “clone?”  Scribbled in a sketchy chicken scratch because that idea was a bit weird.  Arrogance, lack of information, missing history/memories followed.  He could only stare at it for so long before Foggy realized that this was not helpful in the slightest and pitched the thing into the garbage. 

 

OoOoO

 

Mike strolled in a few minutes after noon, one hand holding a glass bottle of soda by the neck, locked between the grip of his thumb and pointer finger, while the other hefted a promising looking bag that he deposited onto the conference table with a touch of ceremony.

“I brought lunch.  Figured I’d limit your room for excuses to run away.”

He winked at Foggy, who sputtered briefly before his stomach growled at the smell of something spicy and fragrant from the depths of the bag.  Matt smirked though, smiling as he locked the office door and drops his blind man’s act as he replaced their open sign with the cheerful “out for lunch” one. 

Foggy helps unpack the food and he will admit honestly that Mike has good taste as containers of curry and rice, buttered chicken and naan emerge to join a few veggie dishes.  They tuck into their food pretty quickly, Foggy and Matt giving enthusiastic thanks for the delivery and his company, the latter of which Foggy is still coming to grips with.  Half of their lunch hour is gone by the time they finish, nothing left save for a few pieces of naan bread that Mike confiscates to mop up the rest of the sauce left on his plate. 

Matt lounges back in his chair, wiping his mouth with a napkin before the thing vanishes into a small ball at the center of his fist.  He’s got that look, sort of a tightness in his jaw, like he’s physically biting down on what he wants to say.  Foggy has seen that look in the courtroom before, has seen it go both ways among the jury.  He’s got half a mind to stop him, but Matt beats him to it, blunt despite the subject.

“Foggy wants.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, but finishes chewing, savoring the bite of sauce covered bread he had taken before he swallows.  His eyes find Foggy, and he can feel the flush rise in his body, the sweat beading behind his ears.  Christ. that line was something out of a bad porno.  Foggy resists the urge to throw something at Matt, knowing damn well he’d either catch it or simply bat it away.

“I’ll fuck him.  You can have his mouth.  The rest is up for negotiation.”

Foggy looks between the two of them, not really believing that this is happening, much less that it’s going as smooth as it is.  He _sort_ of feels like he’s being sold or auctioned, but reminds himself that Matt would stop without question if he had changed his mind.  Mike seems to think on this, leaning back to mirror the other Murdock’s posture.

“This is different for you Matthew.  I’ve never known you to be the sharing type.”

His smile is all teeth as he goads his brother, though Matt ignores the bait.  He hasn’t had a brother long enough for his buttons to be that easy to press.

“Trust me, the interest here is all Foggy’s.”

Mike’s eyes are back on him in a flash, clear blue and bright with a mischievous light.

“Why Franklin, here I thought you couldn’t stand me.  Color me surprised; and inform me as to this change of heart…Or other organ for that matter.”

His smirk is filthy, and Foggy wants to groan, knowing Mike can see him, and Matt can heart everything currently happening to him.  He’s probably flushing enough to glow red hot right now. 

“Well I mean…”  He trails off because what can he say?  I want you because you have your brothers face?  Rude.

Mike chuckles and waves him off with a hand, apparently just ribbing him.  Though Foggy has a feeling this will come up again.

“Consider me very interested.”

The rest of their conversation is interrupted as Matt’s desk clock chimes with the hour and they are rushed into cleaning up before their next client comes in.  Mike bids them a farewell and flips the closed sign as he leaves, blowing a kiss to Foggy over his shoulder before shutting the door behind him.

 

OoOoO

 

Mike is waiting for them on the sidewalk when they finally make it out of the building at half past five, the city streets reflecting on his glasses as he all but lounges against the sun warmed bricks that make up the face of the stacked offices.  Foggy rolls his eyes at the sheer amount of arrogance that rolls off of him, fights off the deep dregs of buried memories tainted with cruel behavior from who he thought had been Mike.  He knew it all now of course, Matt's skirting around his inability to lie, using his aloofness and lack of human decency to keep Foggy from getting close and finding out about Daredevil.  It all had been sort of a wash in the end, but it still happened, still bothered him some days when it’s stubbornly shifting in his mind.  Knowing what he knew now, it probably stung Matt a bit, or at least he hopes it had.  Did his feelings go back as far as Foggy’s?  That's another train of thought that he doesn’t follow much.

He scoops up a canvas bag that had been laying at his feet and falls into step with them easily, taking Foggy's right as Matt settles into his usual spot at his left.  The other Murdock asks how their day ended, if Matt had been over to the gym to practice lately; it’s all background noise to Foggy as he slips into the back space of his mind, floating just under the surface of his own thoughts, churning like eddies and rapids between the past and present.  He's jolted from his short moment of peace by a sensation below his waist, looking away from where his eyes had been following Matt's white cane to glimpse the skin of Mike's wrist as he slides his hand into Foggy's back pocket, his touch warm.  His fingers move oh so slightly, just enough for him to notice the drag of them and the heat that follows through the thin lining of his slacks.

"-spar sometime, like we used to."

He's missed half of the sentence before his brain gets its act together and starts processing the input he's got coming in through his ears.  But Foggy's got to fight to get his attention off of the hand currently feeling him up with an almost timid touch and onto the voices of the Murdock boys.  Caught off guard as he is, it’s all too easy to visualize the two of them in the ring, sweat damp and red with exertion, breathing heavy with the force of their strikes.  Foggy had been to Fogwell’s a few times, but had only watched Matt once, he had nearly bit through his lip watching him move.  They had snuck into the showers in the locker room afterwards.  He must make some sort of noise because Matt tilts his head like a sheepdog hearing a whistle in the distance.  His grip squeezes once at his elbow, and Foggy takes a quick breath, willing himself not to get a hard on in public.

Matt’s nostrils flare, and he takes a noticeable breath at Foggy’s side, tongue coming out enough to lick at his lower lip.  Foggy nearly trips when he realizes Matt’s no doubt smelling him, attempting to taste his arousal as they walk down the sidewalk with the rest of the after-work rush.  He must find what he wants because his grip shifts and tightens, on his bicep, thumb pressing directly over a bruise left from over eager teeth the night before.  Foggy sucks in a breath through his teeth and tries not to trip over his feet.

 

OoOoO

 

They grab pizza and a six pack of beer on the way back to Matt’s, and Foggy tries not to feel things about the loss of the hand in his back pocket when Mike takes up the mantle of pizza transporter.  Before he knows it though, they’re seated at the table back home, a Murdock on each side of him as they tuck into something so top heavy you can barely see the cheese.  It’s good though and washed down with a beer it’s even better.  They finish dinner in short order, and Foggy’s genuinely surprised when Mike helps clean up the remains, only a quarter of a massive pizza and some plates, but still. 

It feels like all too soon when Foggy is looking back at them from one of the arm chairs, sitting across the coffee table from him and side by side on the couch, though carefully not touching he notices, Foggy feels ridiculous for not spotting the differences in the two men sooner.  Though if he’s honest with himself, he wasn’t exactly focused during the previous encounters with the two of them that day. 

They’re the same height, though Matt looks just a bit taller, he chocks that up to the volume in his hair, shining with its usual fiery glow just like the head beside his.  Mike might have more highlights though, a variation of gold strands here and there that pick up the horrendous light of the billboard as the sun goes down. 

Mike’s tucked his glasses somewhere, his eyes are deep and blue, like some fresh water river untouched by human hands, and Foggy feels like he could very easily drown in them if he looks too long.

Matt’s though, they shine clear and bright, an icy sort of blue white that reminds him of the photos you see in nature magazines of glaciers, stunning, but all too easy to see the cold that lies with them.  Part of him wonders if Matt’s eyes had been that same blue before his accident.  He’s thinking of memory for this though, not at all surprised that his glasses have remained in place, that they probably will until the last moment.  Foggy’s had had Matt fuck him in them before, wouldn’t mind it happening again.   

Matt is all hard lines and firm muscle from his night work and boxing hobby, an impressive strength that ripples under his pale skin and thin button up shirts, never failing to make Foggy, or other people for that matter, just a little bit breathless.

Mike is softer in the middle, though he has no denial that there is strength hidden beneath those rolled up shirt sleeves, his skin warm and alive from apparent time spent under the sun, making his tone just a bit darker than that of his brother’s.  Foggy wants to know what his skin tastes like.

“Foggy, come here?”

Just like that he’s jerked into the moment, his time for analysis ending as he stands and crosses the small space, taking a seat between the two.  It was a request, not an order, but something stirs in him as he settles into the leather.  He turns to Matt automatically, rewarded with a soft touch to his chin, a thumb stroking his lip as Matt speaks, his face transparent so Foggy _knows_ he’s listening to his heart.

“You still want this?”

He can feel Mike at his back, giving him space, but still there.  His answer hasn’t changed though, and he tells Matt as much.

“Yes.”

He kisses Foggy once in reward for his honesty before asking.

“Colors?  Where are you right now?”

Foggy hums as the couch dips behind him when Mike slides over cushions to move closer.

“Green, very green.”

Matt kisses him earnestly then, all deep and seeking with the drag of his teeth on Foggy’s bottom lip.  A shiver runs through him, and his thigh is pressed against Mike’s as he closes the distance, soft lips exploring his bared throat as his fingers skim the waistband of his slacks.  He’s bold, Foggy thinks as Matt licks into his mouth, one hand has made it to his waist after untucking his shirt, curious fingers grabbing and toying with the flesh there as his free hand curls around the closure of his bowtie, deftly undoing it with one hand. 

Foggy groans as Matt pulls back, faces forward and winces at the tenderness the awkward angle had already caused.

“Maybe we can take this somewhere where we’ll all fit a bit better?”

They’re left by Matt, no doubt preparing the bed to his liking, so they can all crash when this is all said and done.  Mike turns him, stretches his neck just enough the other way for the ache to disappear before he steals a kiss, slow against Foggy’s impatience, a breathy laugh leaving him as Foggy voices his displeasure. 

“You Murdocks are nothing but teases.”

Once free he stands and stretches, bending to retrieve his bowtie from the rug at his feet before he stills from a sudden noise behind him.  He remains bent over, turning to give Mike a questioning look.  Mike is scrubbing a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and dark with interest.

“ _Jesus_ you’ve got an ass on you.”

He swats Foggy lightly on said ass, palming the cheek with interest like he just can’t resist, and Foggy rocks back into the touch with a noise of encouragement.  Mike grabs him with both hands, kneading as the man before sucks in a breath, hands coming forwards to brace his weight with his palms on the coffee table. The material of his slacks stretches, and Mike groans, smacking the ass again before he stands, grinding against Foggy with obvious arousal.  It’s difficult to tell but he’s pretty sure Mike is packing more than plenty for this to be an enjoyable evening.

“Bedroom, unless you want those clothes ripped off of you.”

Foggy honestly wouldn’t be opposed to it, Matt had done it once or twice and yeah, he was a fan, would be an even bigger one if he didn’t have to pay to replace said clothing afterwards.  He could feel Mike here though, half hard despite the barrier of denim and wool.  He made a noise of agreement and stood, a line of warmth drawing up his back as he pressed close to Mike.  It was all too easy to rub himself up against the other man as he moved from behind the coffee table, dragging their bodies against each other before he made off for the bedroom with a sway in his hips that had Mike swearing. 

“Your boy is a shit Matty.”

Mike of course caught up with him easily, snagging his wrist and backing him up until Foggy’s spine was pressing up close to Matt’s chest.  Matt curled his hands around his waist, petting at the softness of his stomach before his hands found the leather belt, jerking it from the buckle. 

“He can be mouthy too.  You have to find something to keep his mouth occupied with.”

Occupied indeed.  While they had tried gags a few times, Matt’s favorite thing, and usually Foggy’s too, was fucking the other man’s throat until Foggy was good and ready to hold Matt down and fuck him himself.  His dick was more than interested in this current game and gave an eager twitch as Mike began working on the buttons of his shirt, shoving it open and off of his shoulders as soon as the buttons were free.  His thumb pressed deliciously against a nipple, rubbing a tight circle until the flesh darkened and pebbled against his touch.  He leaned in close, nipping at the corner of Foggy’s jaw before moving to tug at an ear lobe with his teeth.  His words husky and dark when he speaks,

“Happy Matty is learning to share Foggy.  Maybe if I’m good you’ll can fuck these like I’ve wanted to.”

Mike is cupping his chest with both hands, something that Foggy would feel ridiculous and self-conscious about if it didn’t feel so good.  His hands were just a touch softer than Matt’s and they skimmed just shy of enough as he all but groped him.  There’s a spark of pleasure lined pain as the edge of a nail scrapes across the raised flesh, blood rushing to the skin in response.  Foggy pants, swallows once, and again before he can speak.

“Something tells me you’ve put more thought into this than the short time after we brought it up.”

Matt’s hands are gripping his hips tightly, fingers digging in as he sucks marks onto his neck, a snort of amusement tickling him before Mike continues on with the picture he’s painting, ignoring the sass.

“Could have you spread out all pretty on your back, fucking your tits far enough you could lick my cock if you wanted.  Only if you keep that mouth in check though.”

A broken noise leaves the middle man and Foggy is honestly considering the odds of not coming in his pants with that imagine now in his mind.  It was not looking favorable right now.  Matt seemed to pick up on this thought, deftly unbuttoning his pants and shoving his hand beneath the layers to grasp Foggy’s cock at the base, a grip he knew all too well would keep him on the wrong side of release.  He keened, throwing his head back only for the brothers to each latch onto a side, all teeth and tongues bringing him to the razors edge that he couldn’t tip himself over.  He wines, struggling against the grip, to get just enough to come before Matt is stilling, voice clear in his ear as he stills against his back.

 “Color.”

Foggy wants to sob, pushes his hips for some kind of friction that doesn’t come.

“Very, very green.  On the bed.”

“No touching yourself.”

He levels a glare at Mike since he’s still facing him, but nods grudgingly, groaning as Matt’s hand leaves him hard and aching, a coolness on his shaft from beaded pre-come sitting just at the tip of himself.  Foggy kicks off his pants and toes off his socks, quickly climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees as soon as his legs are free.  Matt has at least taken his shirt and pants off, resting easy amidst the pillows at the top of his bed in those tiny boxers that are tenting enough to test the seams.  He drags a hand up his leg as he moves closer, coarse ginger hairs springy under his touch.  He hears rustling behind him and turns enough to catch Mike stripping his shirt off of himself, sun kissed skin like Foggy had predicted, clear and scar free down to the softness at his waist. 

Matt meets him half way for a kiss, growling against his mouth as Foggy’s wandering hand rises to palm the bulge at the front of his boxer briefs.  He pulls, back, making him chase his mouth before he’s taken into a deeper kiss, rocking closer with a groan as Mike takes a rough hold of his ass, nipping at the meat of it with his teeth. 

Foggy’s cock drags against Matt’s leg and he makes a helpless sound, whining when Matt pulls back and man handles him into facing Mike, the smile that’s waiting for him dark and sinful.  There’s another bite over Mike’s, Matt marking his territory he knows, and plans to say something before Mike is licking into his mouth. 

Mike’s hands are everywhere as he all but steals the breath from Foggy’s lungs, one trailing his cheek as it finds its way into his hair as the other’s thumb strokes the line of his throat.  His cock is leaking in earnest now, and he makes a move to touch himself, stopped just shy of touching his cock as Matt slaps his hand away.  His voice is gravel when he speaks, a tremor running down Foggy’s spine as the tone creeps into Daredevil territory.

“ _No touching_.”

Foggy is distracted from replying with his current task of lowering himself to pull Mike’s belt free with his teeth.  He takes his frustration out on the strip of level, biting hard as if it would help him closer to that edge he’s ready to dive off of.  The leather is still holding his teeth marks when he finally drops it, Mike’s hands assisting him with the button and zipper. 

He runs a hand through Foggy’s hair as he shoves his jeans down with a hand, giving Foggy enough space to explore the tent of his hideously plaid boxes.  His hands are busy supporting his weight, so he noses along the shaft, eyes widening as he perceives Mike’s size.  He mouths experimentally through the thin cotton, smirking into it as Mike makes a noise above him, tugging lightly enough on his hair to still him while he shoves his boxers off of his hips. 

The man in the middle ignores the newly freed cock, kissing and dragging his teeth over Mike’s stomach, the layer of natural fat over hidden muscle a pleasing change from Matt’s hard lines.  He loves Matt dearly, but there is always that small cruel voice in the back of his mind that compares his physical appearance to his own.  Not to mention that all those hard lines make it a bit difficult to snuggle comfortably some nights.  Foggy nuzzles his way south through the copper colored line of hair below Mike’s navel, breathing in the musky scent at the apex of his thighs.

Faced like this it is all too clear that the twins are _not_ identical, and Foggy is relieved that his mouth will be doing all the work here.  Mike’s cock is bobbing hard and heavy before him, so erect it’s curving back towards his middle, fattening before his eyes as Foggy’s breath hits the sensitive skin.  He’s only inches away and closes the distance swiftly, licking just under the head of his shaft with the flat of his tongue.  Mike jerks closer, tugging hard enough on his hair this time that Foggy moans, the hot flesh slipping past his lips with ease as his mouth opens wider.  Mike all but curls over him, his free hand coming down to rub at Foggy’s shoulder, sounding wrecked as he speaks.

“Look at you all stretched like that.  You like it don’t you?”

Foggy groans an affirmative, pulling back some when he hears Matt open the bed side drawer.  There’s the click of the lube bottle, and one finger teasing him, circling and circling without any pressure before he’s finally past the tight ring of muscle and stroking inside Foggy with a control that he can’t stand.  He moves himself further down Mike’s cock, taking an inch and pulling back two in a steady rhythm for a time before he takes him nearly to the base in a sudden move, nose nestling in soft curls. 

There’s a grunt and Mike is holding him still by the grip on his hair, keeping Foggy from going much further over the engorged flesh in his mouth.  He groans in way of question, blinking up with wide eyes as Mike glares at him, all too aware of what he’s doing.  Foggy swallows around him, taking a little bit of pride as the man above him hisses, his hips bucking against his lips just as Matt slips another finger into him. 

He hums again, in earnest as Matt twists his wrist and grazes that spot that sends star bursts arcing behind his eyes.  Mike pulls him off, hands cupping his jaw to massage his cheeks that he hadn’t realized were beginning to ache.  He’s hoarse when he questions him, can only imagine how he will sound when Mike really fucks his throat.  He’s already covered in hickeys, why not lose his voice for the full package?

“What?”

“Need a break sweetheart, you’re going to ruin my fun before I’ve had my fill of your mouth.”

He drops to his knees at the edge of the bed and kisses Foggy, stealing his attention as Matt adds another finger to the stretch in his ass.  He rocks into it, one hand coming up to grip at Mike’s shoulder and pull him closer into the kiss.  Foggy has to stop to pant into the sheets, cradling his head on folded arms as he tries to be good, to keep from coming.  They seem to pick up on this, and Mike’s smirk is back as they lock eyes, blue to Foggy’s brown.

“You think we should let him come Matty?  He’s been awfully patient.”

“He can, but only without you touching his cock.”

 _Chris_ t, it’s like a porn version of good cop, bad cop.

Mike thumbs his lower lip and Foggy sucks it into his mouth, dragging his teeth over the pad of it.  He wants to rock back on Matt’s hand, fill the ache that’s bloomed in him, but Mike stops him from moving more than an inch, a grip at the nape of his neck warm and firm as he moves, sweeping forward to lick into his mouth as if he’s chasing the taste of himself.

“You heard him.”

A whine builds in Foggy’s throat, some part of him had been hoping that Mike would ignore him, though the sensible part of his brain knew that that would only stir up tension and send the rest of the evening downhill.  Matt taps him lightly on the hip and he rolls over obediently, spreading his legs for Matt to move between them.  Calloused hands move from his ankles to his thighs, rubbing against the coarse hair in a way that makes his skin tingle. He licks his lips subconsciously as Matt spreads lube over his cock, stroking himself a few times because he knows Foggy is watching.  The first thrust into him is shallow, yet Foggy fucks himself back against it, eager for more as Matt slides in at a glacial pace with minute rolls of his hips.  As he moves more, he’s closer and closer to that edge again, but lacking that burst of sensation he needs to tip him over.

He’s earned some pity he thinks, the thought lost after a rough thrust that scrambles his brain for a moment.  Matt lifts one of his legs, hooking an ankle on his shoulder with a grunt as he drives himself further against foggy, hitting him even deeper with the opened position.  Mike comes between Foggy and his view of the ceiling as he bends over him, swallowing his next moan and biting the other man’s lip until he’s surprised he isn’t tasting blood, stopping only to soothe it with the tip of his tongue.  He licks into his mouth, keeping him on edge so Foggy keeps having to chase his mouth across a minute but frustrating distance.  He’s back at that razors edge before long though, hips twitching in a valiant effort for _more_ until Mike thumbs one of his nipples before pinching it with a sudden tightness.  Matt’s next thrust hits home at that bundle of nerves Foggy is so fond of and it’s just enough to shove him over with a sob like gasp.

Matt rocks against him through the tremors, sweat beading where even Foggy can see it across his battle marked skin.  He doesn’t let him rest though, slowly working back up to his previous rhythm as Foggy squirms against him, so sensitive, but greedy for more.

The force of the thrusts has slowly moved him down the bed against slippery sheets, so if he stretched just a bit, his head is hanging upside down.  Mike stands, and Foggy’s mouth is filled again the next time he moans, just the tip of his leaking cock pushing past his lips.  Foggy takes a breath through his nose before forcing himself to relax, a small victory earned when Mike slips into his throat with more ease than he had expected for one smooth stroke, all but dragging a strained noise from the other man. 

Matt is snapping his hips against him, obscene noises of flesh against flesh mingling with the sound from his own throat as the motion forces him further down Mike's spit slick dick.  His rhythm is faltering, quick jerking thrusts until Foggy feels a bite somewhere around his knee and a sudden warmth within him.  Foggy’s fingers toy against Mike’s skin, one hand gripping his thigh to hold him close while the other creeps back to cup his balls in his free hand.

“Let me come on your tits beautiful-”

Its only half question, but Foggy groans and lets himself be pulled off of Mike’s dick, his cheeks sore when Mike leans down to kiss him hotly.  Foggy drops his head and moves back just enough to lick at the soft skin of his balls, hanging full and heavy.  Mike takes his cock into his own hand, grunting as he palms it once before stroking it, spit slick under his touch.  He only manages a few shaky strokes before he’s coming with a deep groan, thick hot ropes of fluid painting Foggy’s stomach and chest, droplets falling onto his sensitized nipples.  The warmth of it feels almost scalding against his skin before the chill of the room touches it, and goosebumps break out along his flesh. 

Mike helps him shift further away from the edge of the bed after Matt removes himself from between his thighs, deft fingers working at sore muscles of Foggy’s hamstrings.  Mike leaves them for a moment before coming back with a warm washcloth, though before he hands it over he slips a finger through his own fluid and offers it to Foggy, looking more than pleased when he licks it off obediently. 

The washcloth feels amazing still, though he knows he’ll have to take a shower later.  He ends up at the head of the bed between the two other men, yawning hugely as the blankets are put into some sense of order.  Matt hovers above him to kiss his temple, and Foggy finds himself smiling at Mike who presses himself against his front.   

“Silk sheets with a great piece of ass beside me?  A guy could get used to something this wonderful.”


End file.
